Sanae
YoshidaMy
Microtonal
Piano
Buene/Harada/Mæland/
Magalhaes/Gundersen

A
Paradigm
ofDicipline
and
Order

As a musical instrument the piano is,both literally and figuratively, black andwhite. A paradigm of discipline and order,
the natural notes here, the sharps andflats here, carefully tuned such that allintervals between the notes are the same,and that all keys, major and minor, soundwith an absolute maximum of consistent,
consonant clarity.
Composers tend not to be interested in orsatisfied by black and white. Indeed, evenall the myriad shades of grey in between
are often insufficient. Regardless of what
it may look like, and how it might havebeen designed, arranged and built, formany composers an instrument is less afull stop than a question mark, a collection of materials that have the potential
to constitute a panoply of multicoloured
technical possibilities.
So it is with the music on this album. To
compose microtonal piano music, to explore the infinitesimal gaps between thewhite and black keys, is to embrace thenecessity to rethink, retool and, of course,
retune the instrument in order to expand
or simply reconfigure its tonal makeup

and capabilities. Such an exploration
extends to other aspects too, to timbre,
structure, melody, and most obviously—
and radically —to harmony.
The five composers on this album all takea distinct, individual approach in their
exploration beyond the conventional
limits of the piano. Perhaps the most immediately accessible is Eivind Buene’s
Three Studies for Microtonal Piano. Taking
his starting point from three sonatas
by Franz Schubert, Buene’s music is
obviously rooted in a familiar musicallandscape of harmonic relationships. The
opening Andantino is in a distorted but
nonetheless clear key of F-sharp minor,
moving later to its dominant of C-sharp,
a process made less secure by clusters,
before returning to the ‘tonic’ at its close.
The two Interludium movements act as
short progressive bridges. The first uses
C-sharp as an enharmonic modulation to
D-flat in the central Adagio, though Buene makes the harmonic foundation moremobile here, touching on B-flat before
increasing amounts of embellishment
lead to a fascinating sequence with theimpression of descending tolling bells

in the upper register, and deep oscillating
gongs in the bass.
The second Interludium takes the final
note, B, and uses it to move back to
C-sharp in the closing Andante sostenuto.
Again, though, Buene keeps the harmonyon the move—G-sharp, E, B, back to
C-sharp—seemingly drifting away fromclear tonal focus yet never displacing it.
This is microtonality as colouration, partof a balance between stability and fluidity,
where harmony is made liquid while coalescing around common focal points in a
way that is easy to grasp and follow.
We hear something similar in ØyvindMæland’s Boiling Web, though its familiarity is more stylistic than harmonic. The
music is lively and playful, initially displaying three distinct layers: a bouncy uppersurface, moody bass below and a driving
percussive beat running through the
middle. Mæland makes the tempo seemelastic­—it often appears to be stretching and flexing—and at times alludes tojazz-like ideas and gestures. In addition
to using the piano as percussion, Mæland
uses a superball mallet to elicit strange

moans from the piano strings, and thesound of the pianist’s voice to introduce
brief moments of syllables, which in theirnature fall somewhere between melody
and rhythm.
This seems to define the limits of themusic’s experimenting, yet it later entersa sequence of rapid repeated notes, so
muted they sound almost dead, sustainedat such length it becomes like an acceptance that, by entering this territory, notonly will not everything sound as we expect, it might not even sound at all. Boiling Web finds its way back to somewhere
similar to its starting point, but thosedead repetitions reappear, undermining
the playfulness heard elsewhere.
A particularly striking aspect of the twopieces by Michelle Agnes Magalhaes istheir elusiveness. Snow Soul, a tribute topoet Emily Dickinson, seems to suggest
the rudiments of a possible melody in its
opening mix of plucked and strummed
strings (often evoking a harp). Yet unusual
sounds of friction cause the music tobecome tremulous, such that everythingsounds decorative, like an embellishment ofsomething rather than the thing itself. Bear-ing in mind the title, its textural qualities
bring to mind the way our perception ofsnow tends to be on its totality (snow!)rather than the detail of individual flakes.
Magalhaes’ approach to such elusive
sounds is playful, informed by an interesting collection of equally ambiguousclunks and skitters, later becoming morepunchy and forceful. Her two-minutehomage to German textile artist Anni
Albers, Tecelagem, is similar in many
respects, though amidst its burbling
caprice and free-wheeling rhythms canbe heard tangible chiming notes above,
which at the end are reinforced with low
tolling notes in the bass. These act as
signposts, points of reference that help us
to navigate through the music’s weaving
ornamental texture.
Most experimental of all these pieces is
唄-媒-培 (BAI-BAI-BAI) by Keiko Harada,
which moves furthest away not only fromthe conventional tuning of the piano, butalso its timbre and treatment. The music
exists in a harmonic / timbral hinterland
where sounds clunk, fizz and shimmer,
where pitches often materialise only via
their overtones or in the midst of a buzzing

cloud of notes, or as brief unidentifiable
impacts. The presence, at times, of the
pianist’s voice, quietly singing, blurs thenature of what we’re hearing still further.
Harada ramps up the complexity by using
an approach to structure that, far beyond
the kind of episodic arrangement heard insome of the other pieces, could almost be
described as atomised. How do different
sounds, events and passages relate toeach other? Individual bars seem to bejust that: individual, momentary soundevents that are gone almost as soon as
they’ve begun. Yet Harada holds this incheck by manifesting a fragile emotional
quality that makes 唄-媒-培 much morethan just an experiment with minisculemusical motes. The centre of the piece, inparticular, features a delicate sequence
like a melody heard through a heat haze,
where it’s as if each and every note
were being considered before the key ispressed, only gradually becoming lightly
florid after. The result is music held in acomplex, even paradoxical equilibrium,disconnected and interconnected, cooland warm, lyrical and alien, all at thesame time.
Andreas Gundersen’s Microtonal Pieces
bring us back full circle, to a soundworldmuch more rooted in familiarity. Gundersen’s experimentation is limited topitch, aligning a piano and a MIDI-pianothat are tuned a quartertone apart fromeach other. The effect of this is not merely
to expand the instrument but to enable
the pianist to straddle two parallel worlds.
As such, in this context we could saythat the microtones are essentially equal
to the tempered pitches (rather than aneffect), being as they are the ‘correct’
relative pitches for their world. Gundersen
moves between these worlds fluidly—allof the music involves both pianos—but
the entire character of the music seems
to question whether that fluidity is actually an illusion. Each of the Microtonal
Pieces is lyrical yet halting, a heartfelt but
broken music seemingly made up of halfremembered fragments.
In the first movement, ‘remnants of what
may still exist’, we hear glimpses of melody,

which initially seem plausibly connected.
Yet that becomes dubious when thesustain pedal is released toward the end;
suddenly it’s revealed to be cold and faltering, nothing like it was before. The second movement, ‘and so forth the…’, turns
from fragments of melody to chords,
scrunchy distorted clusters that at times
suggest there might be something lyricallurking within them. They hover in frontof us like puzzle pieces; Gundersen later
adds lower register chords, but whilebass often underpins music with a clear
foundation, here the deep clusters only
add to the uncertainty and disorientation.
The last piece, ‘if only this, then so be
it…’, breaks up the music in assertive,
forceful runs and heavy crashing chords,
all polarised to the high and low regionsof the piano. It’s an acrobatic display thatroughly pushes past the hesitance andausterity of the first two movements, yet
its conclusion provides no resolution:
still halting, still polarised, still obscuredby the clashes from the tunings and theclusters. There’s a distinct sense that,even if both the pianos were in tune witheach other, the music would still remain,somehow, out of tune with itself.

Beyond black and white, beyond shades ofgrey, beyond even multicolour, the composi-tions on this album utilise microtones andother techniques to enable journeys intomusical realms that lie far outside the
piano’s usual territory. They question, andmake us question, what the piano reallyis, what its nature is like, what its capabilities are, what its limits might be. They dothis through experiment and play, but also
through personal reflection and expression, offering insights into both the heartof music as well as the human spirit.
— Simon Cummings

My
Microtonal
Piano

The solo works on this album have all
been commissioned during my time as an
artistic research fellow at the Norwegian
Academy of Music. Through my project I
have tried to demonstrate, as a performer,
how microtonality can increase the expressive possibilities of the acoustic piano.1
It was in fact Vortex Temporum (1994—96)
by French composer Gerard Grisey, that,when I heard it and later got a chance toperform it myself, became a turning point
for me, and led me to artistic research.
The work is scored for six instruments andrequires a piano where four of the pitches
are tuned a quarter tone lower.
In a remarkable way, these few de-tuned2
piano pitches contribute to the overall
microtonal structure of this highly original
work, and the piano could even be retuned in a fairly short amount of time.
I felt so fascinated by all this, that I started
taking lessons in piano tuning in order tode-tune pianos myself.

I had of course heard and performed microtonal ensemble music before listening
to Vortex, but it was a very different experience when being able to perform themicrotones oneself. As a pianist suddenly
working with intonation and colours,
the way of listening was changing, andI felt like I was thrown into a new worldof sounds. Such a shame most pianists
don’t get to experience this, I thought!
It may be mentioned that what we call“microtonal” is much older than the piano.
Today, pianos exist everywhere, and 12TET - the tuning system of the modern
piano where all intervals are exactly thesame - has already long since colonized
the world of music, also in my home country in the far East. Even music without any
piano has adopted this tuning, which has
in turn changed the way we experiencesomething as “out of tune” or not. A global
uniform tuning system has clearly been
convenient for musicians and the musicindustry, and only some musical minorities

1 I define microtonal piano as a piano including intervals not found in the standard 12-tone equal temperament (12-TET),
whether it requires de-tuning, string harmonics/preparations or other microtonal modes of playing.
2 I use this term to describe “tuning the piano string(s) to a pitch different than how it is normally tuned”.

(certain folk music traditions and perhaps
historically informed performance practices of earlier classical music) have resisted
it and kept or rediscovered their alternative
tunings/intervals as a crucial facet of theirmusical identity.
Within contemporary art music, microtonality has become common knowledge
among most instruments, but my own
beloved life-long partner still retains an
inflexibility in this matter.
Recently, I’ve been wondering if a deeper
driving force throughout this project has
been to give a voice to “the hidden or
forgotten pitches and intervals between
the keys”, so to speak.
In the 20 th century, a few composers,
theorists and performers were constructing new piano instruments focusing on
finding "the ultimate tuning"; such aswith chromatic quarter tone/fifth tone/
sixth tone instruments or just intonation
instruments. But, in a time of widelydifferent aesthetics, many composers
and musicians today use microtonality

without necessarily searching for such a universal tuning. With the approximately 230

strings of the piano, there are however
lots of interesting possibilities, even if
the composer or pianist chooses only to
detune a few of them, or even none.

Rather than focusing on scales, I havebeen interested in increasing the amountof possible piano timbres through microtonality, and there are various waysof doing so. By experimenting alone andtogether with composers, I have sought
to overcome seemingly practical obstacles in order to commission viable works
for the microtonal piano. I have built up arepertoire of nearly 30 works written for
my project. The works have been written
for solo piano or my ensemble, Ensemble
Temporum, as well as a microtonal piano
concerto (the latter recorded on the
LAWO Classics label with the NorwegianRadio Orchestra).
And the Microtonal Piano project lives on,
both through new commissions and new
performances of the already premiered
works, and through albums such as this.

The works on this album approach themicrotonal piano in different ways.
Buene’s “old piano” has an out-of-tune
quality that may sound brutal or nostalgic. He uses the Vortex tuning but, in
addition, there are two keys where theircorresponding strings are tuned just alittle differently.
Magalhaes creates both a new mode(all C#s and F#s are de-tuned) and in
Tecelagem almost a new instrument due
to various preparations. Furthermore,
she requires more playing inside, suchas fingers triggering magnets to shake or“dance” onto the strings, creating complex colourful microtonal sounds.
Mæland’s Boiling Web follows a simple
idea of ticking persistently until the very
last note. With three de-tuned pitches
and several preparations, he creates, tosome degree, several instruments in one,
where there are both beatings, bubbling
microtonal runs, various glissandi sounds,
and pitches “suppressed” so that they’reforced to bend.

Gundersen’s piece is definitely a borderline case in this collection, as the acoustic
piano has no microtones at all. However,the speakers from the detuned midi-piano
are facing the inside of the grand piano,
in order to let the sound “go through its
acoustics” and its vibrating strings. Together, they create a twisted spectral landscape. Gundersen writes that the pieceis a memoriam of the, to a large degree,
forgotten culture of his own Sámi people,
and that the three movements “represent
parts of a lost testimonial, with only fragments preserved for us to experience”.
Harada’s compositional approach is derived from her research of Shima-Uta(島唄: island songs) from the Nansei
Islands of Japan. In spite of several
percussive elements (often preparations),
she claims that, “To perform this work,
the song (唄: BAI) is necessary.” Thereis a long section where the voice blendswith dense chords in the middle range—a certain limited range creating new
vibrations as every single key is a “microcluster” (three strings tuned differently).
— Sanae Yoshida

Sanae
YoshidaSanae Yoshida is an Oslo-based pianist
performing both contemporary andclassical repertoire, both as a solo andchamber/ensemble musician. She has
been working closely with a number ofcomposers and has premiered a large
number of works. She is a founding
member of Ensemble Temporum, aNorwegian ensemble for contemporary
music, and the pianist of Ensemble
Ernst. Yoshida has recorded chamber
works by Monrad Johansen (the CD wasnominated to Spellemannprisen, Norway’s
Grammy, in the classical music category)and Halfdan Cleve (SIMAX), and solo/
chamber works by Øyvind Mæland
(LAWO Classics).

After her studies in Toho Gakuen Schoolof Music in Tokyo, Sanae Yoshida went
to Norway to study with prof. Jiri Hlinka
at the Barratt Due Academy of Music,
and later on she studied with prof. Håkon
Austbø. From 2017, she was undertaking
artistic research at the Norwegian
Academy of Music.

Credits

Recorded in Sofienberg Church, Oslo, 25­—26 August 2020,
and in Lindemannsalen, The Norwegian Academy of Music, Oslo, 27—28 June 2022
Producer: Vegard Landaas
Balance engineer: Thomas Wolden
Editing: Vegard Landaas
Mastering: Thomas Wolden
Piano technician: Tone Torine Røimål
Booklet notes: Simon Cummings / Sanae Yoshida
Booklet editor: Hege Wolleng
Cover design: Anette L’orange / Blunderbuss
Cover and artist photos: Produced by Tomoko Fukushi, Shuko Katami
and Asako Sekiyama.
This recording has been made possible with support from:
Arts and Culture Norway
Norwegian Society of Composers

LWC 1273℗ 2024 LAWO | © 2024 LAWO Classics
www.lawo.noJon Oivind Ness (*1968)

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.

Eivind Buene (*1973)
Three Studies
For Microtonal
1. Marmaele (2015)/ 23:22 Piano (2019)
I. Andantino—05:49
Soloist: Marianne Baudouin Lie — celloInterludium I—00:43
II. Adagio—04:23
2. Mørkgånga
(2014) / 32:59
Interludium II—00:41
III. Andante Sostenuto—03:49

6.

Keiko Harada (*1968)
唄-媒-培 (Bai-Bai-Bai) (2019–2021)—11:34

7.

Øyvind Mæland (*1985)
Boiling Web (2020)—15:14

8.
9.

Michelle Agnes Magalhaes (*1979)
Snow Soul (2022)—07:05
Tecelagem (2022)—02:26

10.
11.
12.

Andreas Gundersen (*1993)
Microtonal Pieces (2022)…remnants of what may still exist—04:21…and so forth the...—02:57
if only this, then so be it...—04:01